In the immortal words of the Backstreet Boys, “Oh my god, we’re back again…”
Batman's back, ALRIGHT!
It’s been forever since I’ve done one of these. I want to try and update this blog more frequently, but we’ll see how that goes. Anyway, on to the bitterness (Bitter B approves. Or disapproves. Whatever).
Sunday Bitter Sunday: Pride FAIL 2009
A few weekends ago, I headed over to SF to take part in some Pride related activities. I met up with my friend Sophia and we hung out with some other folks in Dolores Park before the Dyke March. Played some “People Watching Bingo”, enjoyed the sun, and did the March, which ends in the Castro for the Pink Party. Other than a cursory glance in our bags, we went through security with no problems.
We decided to leave the party for a bit to go eat dinner. Once we finished, we headed back to the party. Easy peasy, right?
And this was when it all went wrong.
The line (if you could even call it that), was this massive, poorly organized crush of people. The security guards were not at all helpful; it was all yelling and threatening and general abrasiveness. Yelling at people that there were no backpacks allowed and that if they had one, they’d have to take it home or throw it away. Very slowly, we started to move. And then I thought I heard someone say, “Women on this side, men on this side.” No way, I must have misheard. But as we got closer the security guards were yelling it and directing people to go to the correct line.
Yes, that’s right. Gender binary segregated lines. At Pride.
How fucked up is that? The whole thing was just so bizarre. One of those “You have got to be fucking kidding me” moments.
And as if that’s not enough, when we finally got to the front of the gate, they made me throw out my leftover Indian food from dinner and my Chex mix. What’s so dangerous about Chex mix?
I guess the moral of the story is that if you fall outside of the gender binary, you’re not welcome to even stand in a fucking line at Pride.
And you sure as hell better not have any Chex mix.
